The Quarantined, the Wallflower, and the Party
by lilac-kat
Summary: WRITTEN FOR SA CONTEST WINNER #1: Rookie agents Olympia & Otis get invited to Otto's 11th birthday party, and while Olympia is super psyched, Otis could honestly care less. But as unforeseen circumstances force Otis into the spotlight alone in the middle of his worst nightmare - a social gathering! - how will he manage THIS odd problem? (Picks up right where 'First Day' left off)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Hey guys, I'm back! Sorry I've been away awhile, I've been dealing with this brand-new teensy little easily manageable beast called College...yeah okay that was flat-out sarcasm, I've actually been dying of stress on a whole new level. But anyhow, here's the first of three short stories from the winners of this summer's Contest, brought to you by guest user Aliceine.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own _Odd Squad_. Just the stories I write about it.**

 **SECOND DISCLAIMER: The story may be conceived and written by me, but Aliceine has complete final say in what is published.**

 **So without further ado, happy reading! :)**

Chapter 1

"Gasp! We found our secret handshake! We—"

"That was an accident."

Olympia wasn't having it. "Nonononono, that was a sign that we were perfect partners, admit it! Do iiiiiit…!" Oblivious to Oscar's bewildered exchange with Ms. O behind her, she immediately marched after her partner. "I saw that smirk, you agree with me and you know—it..."

Otis had stopped. He was staring at one of the desks by the tube slide, his face expressionless. But Olympia knew better. Just because her new partner didn't like to talk about feelings didn't mean he had none. And based on his body language... "Whatcha looking at?" she asked, her voice chipper again as she bounced after him.

Then it hit her. "Wait a sec, these desks are empty!" she squealed. "That means they're just for us! And if the last opening was Olive and Otto..." Olympia gasped and dove into the nearer swivel chair, her smile pure ecstasy. "I'm sitting right where Olive used to sit," she said dreamily. "I feel so inspired right now! To think, on the very spot where the best agents in all of Canada—"

"What is that thing on my desk?"

She had forgotten about Otis. "Oh, so you weren't staring at the desk itself?" she realized. _I guess he doesn't know who Olive and Otto are...cuz he's been living under a rock or something...but still, wouldn't the desks be captivating enough? What else could possibly get Otis's attention?_ Definitely curious by now, Olympia hopped out of her chair and landed at his side, following his gaze. "I don't get it. All I see is a computer, some pencils, a little card with the number 11 on it—"

"That's what I meant," Otis said, reaching forward and gingerly picking it up. "What is this thing? Some kind of odd problem?"

Olympia wasn't sure whether to gape or laugh, so the snort that came out was a mix of both. "That's a birthday invitation, silly!" she scoffed. "What, have you never gotten invited to a party before?"

Otis hesitated. "Um, what's it doing here?" he stammered a little, turning the subject away from him.

"Probably Otto or someone left it behind," she mused, deciding not to pursue the issue of Otis and birthday parties. "Wonder who's party it was for?" Casually she opened the invitation—and promptly dropped it.

"What, what is it?" Otis asked in alarm.

"Oh...my...gosh..." Olympia's eyes were wide, her jaw slack, her hands trembling ever so slightly. Her mind had gone completely blank. Suddenly she grabbed Otis by the shoulders and shook him a little. "OMG DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS _MEANS?!_ "

A hint of a smile dancing about his mouth, Otis casually sat on the desk top, straddling the corner as he locked eyes with Olympia and raised an eyebrow meaningfully. "No, no I don't."

 _Oh right, duh, he didn't read it yet. Silly Olympia._ Quickly she scrambled to pick it up off the floor and opened it again, this time to read aloud. "'Agent Otto's turning eleven! To celebrate his birthday and recent promotion to Mr. O'—that last bit was written in with a pencil, look—'you and your partner are invited to a huge celebration party at Menchie's Frozen Yogurt on Saturday, January 9. There'll be food, games, food, friends, food, dancing, food, and lots of Soundcheck!' Otis, in one week we're gonna meet _the_ Olive and Otto!"

Otis furrowed his brow. "But they don't even know who we are, why would they…?"

"Hey, guys! Found the invitation, I see?"

The partners turned, startled to see a third figure join them. "Oh, hi Oscar!" Olympia said, trying and failing to tone down her excitement. "Yeah, have you seen this yet?"

"Of course I have, heh!" he answered, grasping the lapels of his lab coat in trademark fashion. "I helped Otto design this year's invitations and pass them out. A-and I added the bit about Mr. O when I found out he was getting promoted, too. See, Otto likes huge parties, so I figured he could invite both this squad _and_ the squad he and Olive are moving to for one _gigantic_ party, heh!" On the word 'gigantic' Oscar whirled his head around to emphasize his point, nearly flinging his glasses off.

Olympia cocked her head and gaped just a little. "You _know_ Agent Otto?"

Oscar grinned and let out a playful scoff. "Do I know him? Of course I know him! I've worked with him and Olive on so many cases, they're like my best friends now. Or...well, they were...I mean, Olive and..." He trailed off, and for a moment Olympia thought she saw his brown eyes turn a little misty. But the moment passed, and before she could wonder anymore about it Oscar was back to his chipper self. "Anyways, yes! You two are part of the squad now, so of course you're invited. Besides, Olive and Otto are probably curious about who their replacements are, and I'm sure they'd love to meet you!"

" _Really?!_ " Dimly she was aware of Otis pursing his lips uncomfortably, probably at the thought of her dragging him along to a place with that many people to interact with, but she was too excited to care at the moment. Unable to contain herself, Olympia let out another huge squeal. She could already picture herself shaking their hands, getting their autographs, taking selfies with both of them...especially Olive… "This is gonna be so AMAZING!"

* * *

"THIS IS GONNA BE THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE!"

Otis watched with a mix of alarm and pity as Olympia, separated from him by the glass walls of the quarantine chamber, angrily hurled the thermometer to the floor and buried her face in her hands. But for the life of him, he couldn't think of a single thing to say that would make her feel better. Stupid lack of social skills.

"It's so unfair!" she moaned, letting her arms fall to the side to expose the four-leaf clover hives that had yesterday exploded on every inch of her skin. Her lip trembled. "I was s-supposed to...m-meet Olive and Otto… _WHY DID I HAVE TO GET LUCKY POX?!_ "

 _Oh, the irony,_ Otis mentally agreed, still trying to ignore the wave of relief he'd felt once he found out yesterday afternoon that Olympia had somehow fallen sick with one of the most contagious odd diseases known to Odd Squad, thus freeing him from attending such a terrifying social obligation. It was hard enough for him to recognize that, right now, what Olympia needed was his sympathy. "Hey, come on. I'm sure there'll be other chances for you to meet Olive and Otto. We only just started work, I'm sure they'll come back and visit their old boss now and then."

He wasn't helping. Olympia, face now buried in her hands, didn't react to his attempt at comforting words. Ignoring any distress, he tried again. "Hey. Look at me. If it'll make you feel better, I won't work today. I'll stay right here and keep you company." His mind raced as he tried to remember what he'd learned about what kids like to do when they're bored. "We can have our own fun! Play card games, have a tea party, annotate the bibliography of my cousin's world history textbook—"

"I'm not letting you stay here, Otis."

Her muffled voice stopped him. "Oookaaay," he said slowly, mentally changing tactics. "So I can go do actual work, I know you wouldn't want to get behind on any of our cases—"

"Otis, you're still going to the party. Just without me."

That _really_ stopped him.

He must have been so flabbergasted that he was completely cluelessly staring or something, because Olympia quickly began to explain. "Look, I know you don't like being around a lot of people you don't know—which is still really weird and makes no sense to me, but that's something to talk about another day—and you probably don't want to do this, but...can you please at least just go to the party to represent me? Like, y'know, just show that we're here and doing our job like the awesome agents we are, yay! Also, someone needs to bring them the birthday presents I made—" with a _ding_ she pulled out two purple-wrapped parcels from behind her back, wisely keeping them in her lap instead of stepping out of the quarantine chamber to give them to Otis "—and maybe even try to, oh, get their autographs?" On the last word, her voice turned ever so slightly shriller and went up couple hopeful decibels.

 _Oh no, she's giving me those puppy dog eyes._ (For some reason, Olympia was the only person Otis was able to socially understand.) _What should I do? Back out now while I still can or make my partner happy?_

Otis sighed. Today was one of those days he wished the issue was actually a valid question. But she was one of few people he could never bring himself to turn down… "Six o'clock this evening. Menchies. Got it."

It was worth it to see Olympia's smile, glowing even under all the green shamrocks. "Thank you, Otis! You're the best! Just make sure you tell me _everything_ when you get back, 'kay?"

"Anything for you, partner," Otis replied with a strained smile in return.

 _What in odd's name have I signed myself up for…?_

 **A/N Oh and just so you readers know, in case you haven't figured this out yet, story updates from here on out will be _veeeeerrrryyy sloooooow_ in coming, due to my crazy hectic new life. But it isn't likely I'll quit any project entirely, not with three wonderful Contest winners to hold me accountable! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Hey guys! I know, I know, long time no see. Combination of college and writer's block got in the way, but as you can see I haven't forgotten this or Story #2! (And honestly, how could I after writing a 43-chapter fanfic? These ones will only be 3 and 6 chapters, that's nothing :) ) In news and announcements, I now have Story #3 from the Contest in the planning stages, so I'll start working on it after I finish this one. Meanwhile, hope to have the second chapter of Story #2 up by the show's two-year anniversary! :D SQUEEE!**

 **In other news and announcements, there are two _Odd Squad_ fanfics that you all need to check out as soon as you read/review this chapter, and they are "Full Circle" by Agent0002 and "The Insideoutinator" (an _Inside Out_ crossover story!) by ErinMilne. The latter is based on one of my favorite movies and is in need of love and attention over in the Crossover category, and the former is edited by me and is a sort of follow-up/sequel to my fanfic "Ships Ahoy".**

 **Which reminds me: just a reminder that Agent Oona has a Pinterest account, and Agent0002 would LOVE it if you went and followed Oona on Pinterest! Plus there'll be several pins showing up that have a lot to do with upcoming chapters in "Full Circle". So don't miss out, go find Oona on Pinterest and get to PINNING!**

 **Two last things: one, the OC in the second half of the chapter was created by Aliceine, the winner of this story. And two, there's a brief scene somewhere within this chapter based on a bit of dialogue from a certain Pixar movie - see if you can figure out which one!**

Chapter 2

At precisely 5:59 that night, a cloaked figure wearing a large and elaborate Mardi Gras mask popped out of the tubes and onto the sidewalk, just across from the local Menchie's Frozen Yogurt outlet.

Otis shivered in the chilly, subzero January air as he straightened up from his tube ride. It was almost a bit of a shame that a few days ago Odd Squad had caught Sven Jorgensen's cousin, Jen Svorgensen, messing up winter temperatures by making the weather unseasonably hot. Though he'd never admit it, Otis had rather enjoyed the strange summer-like spell on January 2nd, the day he and Olympia had solved their first case together about the floating people, and he was slightly disappointed that the weather had been put right again. Then again, that's what the Jacketinator was for.

As he made his way through the evening darkness to the crosswalk at the corner, Otis tried to dispel the nervous butterflies hovering in his stomach. _It's going to be fine, Otis,_ he told himself. _You did plenty of research on what birthday parties are like, you can handle this on your own. Especially now that you know people wear masquerade masks at parties if they want to blend in, like in_ Romeo and Juliet. _No one will notice me, and I can get the autographs quickly and go, without making a big scene._

Poor Otis was about to realize he still had a lot to learn about birthday parties.

The moment he pushed open the door, every single one of Otis's senses was flooded with the overwhelming rush of _PARTY_. The pulsating disco lights distracting his vision at every turn, the blaring music and louder still kid chatter drowning out any other sound in his mind, the thickness of the crowd pressing in so close he could _feel_ it in his skin, and the scents of sweat mixed with frozen yogurt almost heavy enough to even taste. Everything in Otis's senses screamed _PARTY! PARTY! PARTY! PARTY! PARTY!_

He was so overwhelmed, it took Otis a few moments before he realized that no one else was wearing an Odd Squad uniform. Worse, _no one else_ was wearing a mask like he was—and in the fifteen seconds he had been in there, some passing glances had already begun to linger into stares.

 _Am I really the only guest here who wanted to at least try to blend in? Great, and all I end up doing is sticking out._

Nevertheless, no matter how much his socially-awkward instincts screamed for him to GET OUT OF THERE RIGHT NOW, Otis forced himself to nonchalantly try to mingle with the crowd. _Give them their gifts and get the autographs first_ , he reminded himself, _and_ _then_ _you can leave._ He had to do this for Olympia. This was what she'd wanted, so that was all that mattered right now.

As Otis made his way deeper into the chaos, the realization struck him: _I don't even know what Olive and Otto look like. Probably should've looked into that_ _before_ _I came here. That means...ugh, that means I'll have to_ _ask_ _someone._ That said, he tried searching for any familiar faces. If both Ms. O's squad was invited along with Otto's and his partner Olive's squad, there had to be _some_ of his coworkers here. _Maybe I could find Oscar. He's easy to talk to, and he knew Olive and Otto the best. Perfect, now all I have to do is find_ —

"Dude, what's with the weird-looking mask?"

Otis froze.

"AWOOOOOOO!"

 _Wait a second...isn't that—?_

Suddenly a brunet boy with thick-framed sunglasses and wearing a festive orange Hawaiian shirt slid in front of him, blocking Otis's view of much else. Next to him was a taller, heavier-set… boy? wolf? creature? _someone_ in a matching blue Hawaiian shirt, holding a Menchie's froyo bowl filled with what looked suspiciously like mashed potatoes. "Excuse me, I asked you a question," the first boy said with more than a hint of arrogance, lifting up his sunglasses.

Otis gulped. More and more he was regretting his failed attempt at blending in. He decided that when he found Oscar, the first thing he would ask the scientist would be if he had a gadget to help him not stick out—something like a Face-Replaceinator, perhaps. "New! I-I'm new here," he stammered, trying to pull himself together somewhat.

" _New?_ " Without an ounce of hesitation, the boy reached forward and tugged on Otis's mask, stretching the elastic enough until he could peer into his face. "Ohh, of course," he sniffed, letting go of the mask so that it snapped back into place with a painful _smack_. "You're that Otis kid. One of Olive and Otto's replacements."

 _Why does everybody keep saying that?_ "And uh, you're Oren and Olaf," Otis winced, resisting the urge to reach under the mask and rub a hand over the tender skin on his face. "I remember seeing you around...I think..."

Oren rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't surprise me. Olaf and I _are_ veteran agents, after all."

"Veteran agents?"

"That means we been here for long time!" the other wolflike boy Olaf piped up.

"That so?" While a part of Otis could care less about socializing with not-the-nicest of kids, another part of him was intrigued. "So, uh...you knew Olive and Otto well, then?"

"Pfft, of _course_ we knew them! And frankly, we were _much_ better agents at solving cases than they were." Oren then mumbled something unintelligible over the loud music.

"Could you say that again?" Otis asked politely.

"Why should I? It's none of your business," he retorted.

"He say he jealous that Olive and Otto got promoted 'stead of him!"

Oren shot a bitter glare at his partner. "That's enough, Olaf. C'mon, we need to get you more potato frozen yogurt." And with that he grabbed Olaf's arm, flipped his sunglasses back over his eyes and the two of them sauntered off.

"But wait! I needed you to…!" Otis trailed off as they disappeared into the crowd, and sighed. So much for finding familiar faces. Trying (and failing) not to feel discouraged and embarrassed, he resumed slowly working his way through the crowd, keeping an eye out for Oscar. Or any other face he might possibly be familiar with.

* * *

"...so now we're in deep trouble, I mean one more blast from her ray and we're teddy bears. Somehow we manage to duck behind a cotton candy cart and what does Evil Teddy do?"

"She starts monologuing!"

" _She starts monologuing!_ " Agent Onica struggled to contain her giggles as she and her partner, Omri, related the tale of their last case to a wide-eyed recruit girl. "She starts, like, this prepared speech about we're no match for her teddy ray—"

"—how inevitable our defeat is—" Omri jumped in.

"—how the town will soon be _filled_ with teddy bears! Yadda yadda yadda—"

"—yammerin'—"

"— _yammerin'!_ I mean Teddy's got us backed into a corner and she _won't shut up!_ "

The two agents collapsed in fits of laughter, much to the recruit's delight. "So did you get the bad lady?" the little girl asked eagerly.

"Oh yeah!" Onica said, wiping tears from her eyes. "We were able to call for backup to the park and get enough Un-Teddybearinators to turn all the townspeople back into themselves. That's why if you ever become a villain, _never_ let yourself monologue and give Odd Squad a chance to defeat you."

"But don't become a villain," Omri cut in. "Seriously, don't."

"Yeah, don't!" Onica agreed. "We're totally happy to have you join the force. You're gonna _love_ having Olive and Otto for your Ms. and Mr. O's."

Omri gave her a pointed look.

Onica winced. "Okay, fine, so I was a little hesitant at first. I just don't like change, and I'm gonna miss the old Mr. O. But Ms. Olive and Mr. Otto are two of the best agents in Odd Squad history, and we're lucky to have them for our..."

She trailed off as something caught her eye. Peering over the crowd on tiptoe, Onica leaned toward her partner and muttered, "Is it just me, or is that guy wearing a super sparkly Mardi Gras mask?"

Omri, who was taller and could see better, nodded and raised his eyebrows. "Wonder why. The invitation didn't say this was a costume party."

"Here, hold my froyo and I'll go ask him!" Handing him her cup of raspberry covered chocolate frozen yogurt, Onica bounced through the crowd and tapped the masked boy on his shoulder. "Neat mask!" she announced in her chipper voice.

The boy started and whirled around. "Oh! Um...th-thanks? I-I didn't know I wasn't supposed to wear it, so..."

 _Aw, poor thing, he's nervous. Maybe he needs a friend!_ "Don't feel bad, it looks awesome!" she told him, waving a hand dismissively. "So, which squad are you from? I'm not sure if I know you, are you new? My name's Onica and I'm eleven years old, what about you?"

"Well, I..." the boy looked away and answered almost mechanically, "My name's Otis, I'm twelve, I'm new, and I'm from Precinct 13579. And I gotta go now."

"Waitwaitwait!" Onica sidestepped in front of him to stop him from leaving. "You can't leave now, I gotta get to know you better if we're gonna be friends!"

"Friends?"

"Of _course_ , friends! That's what parties are for, making friends!"

"But I thought parties were for celebrating bir—"

"Well, yes, that too, but there's _soooooo_ much else that also happens at parties! Like getting to know new friends!" She stepped back and tossed her long, strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder as she put a hand to her chest. "Like take me: My name's Onica, I'm eleven years old, I'm about four foot nine—oh whoops, I mean 145 centimeters, still gotta get used to that, I'm originally from Rochester, New York in the States, but Omri and I transferred last year—you can't tell right now but I've got brown eyes, I _love_ reading and listening to music, I hate sports, technology confuses me—which is why I'm an Investigation agent and not Science, lolz—" at that she giggled a bit "—I'm an extrovert, I work for Mr. and Ms. O's squad in the next town over, and I—"

"Wait!" the boy Otis suddenly cut her off, holding both hands up in front of her face. "Mr. and Ms. O...like Olive and Otto?"

Onica cocked her head. _Doesn't everybody know that?_ "Duh, of course!" she laughed. "The best bosses I've had in my career! Why do you ask?"

"It's my partner," he explained, and Onica noticed his voice sounded a bit more confident than it had before. "Olympia and I are brand new to the squad, and she got sick today so she couldn't come to the party. But she wants me to get their autographs...so..."

 _Aww, how sweet of him!_ Onica marveled. _Such devotion to his partner, and so early in their partnership!_ "Nice! In that case, I can help you try to find them." If she'd looked closer, Onica would've noticed a slight relaxing in Otis's shoulders to show his sigh of relief. But eager and hasty as she was, she immediately stood on tiptoe and craned her neck in all directions, trying to peer over the pressing crowd. "It'll be a little hard with so many people here, but—"

And that was when, at (unknown to Onica) the worst possibly timed moment, the dance music changed to a certain popular Soundcheck song.

Onica's ears perked up and she let out a squeal. "Omigosh, it's 'Shake It Like a Blender'! I _love_ this song! Soundcheck's the best for dancing to, aren't they?"

"I, uh, prefer ragtime, but shouldn't we be—"

"Sounds cool! Not that I've ever seen anyone dance to that before, but anyways speaking of which, I better get out there!" All else forgotten, she immediately began pushing her way through the crowd in the direction of the dance floor.

Again, if she'd been paying attention, or been able to see under his mask, Onica would've clearly seen Otis's demeanor suddenly shift to alarm and growing frustration. "Wait!" she heard his voice shout, feeling a hand suddenly grab her shoulder. "But what about finding Olive and Otto?"

"Oh! Um..." _Doggonit, what do I do? I said I'd help him, but...Soundcheck…_ "Uh, try checking the froyo bar!" she hurriedly suggested, pointing toward a corner of the room. "Mr. O loves anything food, he might be over there. He's wearing a silver top hat with a purple sparkly number 11 on it, and a purple sparkly necktie with a silver number 11 on it. You can't miss him, good luck, now I gotta go _dance!_ " Satisfied at having helped him, she left the bewildered boy behind and all but barged through the crowd (narrowly avoiding many a bowl of frozen yogurt) toward the dance floor.

Once the song ended and she was exhausted yet exhilarated from dancing her heart out, a panting and grinning Onica realized that, not three kids away from her, a certain birthday boy had forgone the cake and presents and decided to join the dance fray, amidst eager cheers. Suddenly Otis popped back into her mind as it dawned on her what this meant.

 _And I sent him to the froyo station..._

… _Oh, no…_

… _and he struck me as way too shy, there's no way he'll come looking for Mr. O without help,_ she thought with a sickening feeling. Onica bit her lip, puzzling over what to do. _Should I go find him? Wait, but what if I come back and Mr. O's moved on again? Is there any way I can get Otis to the dance floor without leaving to—_

 _Wait a second…what was it that Otis had said about dancing…?_

An idea flickered to life in her mind. Instead of leaving the dance floor, Onica made a beeline straight for the DJ station before the next song could start. "Excuse me? I have a rather odd song request..."

* * *

Meanwhile, a measly cup of plain frozen yogurt absently clutched and forgotten in his hand, Otis was hiding in the corner, ready to give up all hope of finding Otto or Olive or Oscar or even _anyone_ that might help him. _What am I gonna tell Olympia? I can't just go back to headquarters empty-handed—or worse, still with the presents I was supposed to hand deliver. And this mask was a terrible idea. Come to think of it, this whole party thing was a terrible idea. I'm useless at anything social...why couldn't I have gotten the lucky pox instead of my partner?_

Otis flicked some of the feathers on his mask, then sighed. _No, better leave it on. I really should keep trying...but what can I do besides wait here and hope some boy with a silver top hat and sparkly purple tie shows up for food? Actually, is that such a bad idea…?_

But as it turned out, Otis never needed to decide whether it was or not. Because it was at that precise moment that none other than "Maple Leaf Rag" began blaring over the speakers.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Alright, so as we come to the close of this story (yes, it's a short one), there's a couple matters I'd like to take care of. First, a question in one of the reviews I forgot to clear up: yes, the party is being held on Saturday January 9, even though Otto's actual birthday is on January 10. This is because in OINFO, Oscar reminds Otto that he'll see them at his birthday party "next Saturday", and in the year 2016 the closest Saturday to his birthday was on January 9, which is why I picked that date for this fanfic.**

 **Secondly, a fun little thing I did intentionally: today, Dec. 29, is the two-year anniversary of the publication of "Olive's Last Partner"—my first Odd Squad fanfic, _THE_ first OS fanfic EVER, and the kickstart to my biggest project, "Ships Ahoy". Ahh, the nostalgia... :)**

 **Thirdly, a huge shoutout to all the favorites, follows, and reviews from Dr. Pickle 22, Agent0002, Supergirl4323, Zoha Ven, awesomeeden84, Padme Ella Uhura, trauzlly, Ravenpuff, Opla-chan, Guest, and indiacaly. You guys rock!**

 **And finally, a ginormous** **special thank-you to Aliceine, for being the mastermind behind this entire story and making it all possible. I gotta say, she's probably one of the most involved collaborators I've ever worked with on a Contest-winning story, and was never afraid to speak her mind about what she wanted written. It was truly super fun to work with you! :D**

Chapter 3

Otis's jaw dropped.

 _Agent Onica. She remembered._

Before he even knew what was happening, his coat and jacket and frozen yogurt (though somehow not the mask) had been carelessly tossed aside and he was hurtling through a crowd of bewildered kids, straight for—you guessed it—the dance floor.

Otis couldn't be sure exactly where his inner Dancing Queen came from. For the longest time, until joining Odd Squad and getting to know Olympia, he never realized that not everybody has a natural knack for twentieth-century fusion dance—rather, he always thought it was one of those average normal things that average normal people did. Even when he never saw anyone else dance the way he did in public, Otis assumed that maybe everyone was shyly self-conscious about it and preferred to dance to ragtime by themselves, the way he did. After all, it wasn't like ragtime was played on the radio much anymore. Or by DJs at social dances.

But as he slid into the center of the emptying dance floor and let his inner Dancing Queen heart burst free, Otis wasn't thinking about any of that. The outside world of the crowded and social-anxiety-inducing Menchie's atmosphere was, for the first time that night, utterly lost to him. All Otis knew was that someone had been kind enough to take notice of him and give him a spotlight that, for once, he couldn't be shy about. And even that was lost as the piano swirl of "Maple Leaf Rag" and his unique dance instinct took over and crowded out all other thought in his mind.

There were confused voices all around. "What kind of music is this?"

"I think it's called 'Squat Choppin' by Mabel E. Fragg."

"Whatever it is, it's too old-fashioned, I dunno how to dance to this!"

But Otis couldn't hear them over the wide range of dance styles in his mind that, meshed together, formed his inner Queen. From basic tap...

 _Shuffle-step clap, shuffle-step clap, ball change—_

"Hey, who's that kid in the middle there?"

...to Vaudeville...

— _Maxie Ford into bombershay, fall off the log—_

"That's a funny-looking mask he's wearing, isn't it?"

...to Eccentric…

— _snake hips shimmy, rubber legs, camel walk—_

"Who cares about his mask, check out those moves!"

...to Lindy Hop (and all the Charleston)…

— _swing Charleston, Suzie Q, Savoy Charleston, hitchhike, Mashed Potato Charleston—_

"I've never seen anyone dance like that before."

...to Broadway Jazz…

— _rock step, VOP step, step-touch, hitch kick—_

"Wow, look at him go!"

...to classic hip-hop…

— _happy feet, drop into coffee grinder, dip-step up, James Brown into punch down—_

"It's like he can't stop!"

...and into something all his own...

— _sideshuffle and two-handwave, hurdle the fence, dive 'n roll—_

"Partner, I think he's even better than you!"

...and then the piano swirl tumbled down into the final chord, and with a flourish of his arms Otis dropped to the floor into an appropriate ending full splits.

His mind clearing and resurfacing back into reality, Otis looked up for the first time and realized everyone was gawking at him, in complete silence. But before he could consider scrambling away in embarrassment to the safety of his corner, the entire room exploded into cheers and applause.

Now it was Otis's turn to stare, dumbfounded. _They thought I was worth watching? That I was...good?_

Vaguely he felt a hand pull him to his feet. It was Onica. "Wow, you weren't kidding when you said you liked ragtime," she marveled, grinning. "Those were some sick moves out there!"

For the first time that night, Otis smiled. "Thanks. And thank _you_ for getting me out here." He jerked his head in the direction of the DJ station. "That _was_ your doing, wasn't it?"

"O-ho, yeah." Onica winked. "Since I sent you in the wrong direction to look for my bosses, I figured I ought to help out and steer you over to the _real_ right place."

The what? Her what? "What do you…?"

Otis trailed off as he felt a hand clap his shoulder. The cheering instantly hushed, and a lighthearted voice spoke behind him. "Y'know, it's not every day I find an Odd Squad agent who shows me up with dancing ability."

 _Oh no, did I offend someone?_ Otis whirled around, an apology ready on his lips. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it would—"

He stopped. His masked eyes took in the silver top hat and purple necktie emblazoned with the number 11, the unusually tall-for-the-age height, the dark hair and skin, and the cockish twinkle in the bright eyes and huge grin of the boy in front of him. There was no mistaking who he had finally, _finally_ bumped into.

A shorter but older girl with a dark ponytail and a silver-trimmed purple romper slid up next to the boy. "Oh, so _now_ you're playing modest," she remarked, punching him lightly on the arm. "Only a minute ago you looked jealous enough to—"

"Okay, okay, Olive, I get it, I can't dance to ragtime!" the boy cut her off good-naturedly as the crowd laughed and resumed their chatter. He turned back to Otis. "Anyhow, I don't remember if we've met, I can't tell who you are under the cool mask. What's your name?"

But Otis was too shocked with his good fortune to say anything but, "You're Olive and Otto. You—I—um, I've been l-looking for you." He regained his wits somewhat and remembered Olympia's presents. "My partner got sick and couldn't come to the party," he went on, pulling out the packages from behind his back, "so she wanted me to bring these to you." As an afterthought he added, "Happy Birthday!"

Otto's face lit up even more as he took them from Otis's outstretched hand. "Thanks, buddy! And tell your partner thanks, too!" With that he turned to Olive. "Hey, think you can run these back to the gift table for me?"

 _Uh-oh,_ Otis thought. _I can't lose her while I've got them both here!_ "Uh, wait!"

Olive paused mid-grab and looked up at Otis. Suddenly nervous again ( _Crumpets, I really need to work on maintaining_ _consistent_ _social confidence!_ ) he stammered out, "I, er, sh-she wanted...I mean, m-my partner...well, we're both new agents, and, uh...she's r-really a big fan of your work, ahem. So if you, erm, wouldn't mind..." the words failed him, and he trailed off and tried to make a writing motion with his hand.

Luckily, Olive caught on. "Oh," she nodded with a knowing smile. "Your partner wants autographs, does she?"

Relieved, Otis nodded wordlessly.

Otto winked. "Well, your partner just so happens to be in luck." Reaching behind their backs, he and Olive simultaneously brought out signed photos and held them out. "We've been getting a _ton_ of autograph requests ever since we got promoted," Otto explained, not without a hint of pride.

Relieved and incredulous, Otis took the photographs and looked at them. Finally, his mission had ended successful. "Thank you very much," he said stiffly, trying not to show his relief. "She'll love these."

Olive smiled warmly. "You're welcome, Agent...what did you say your name was again?"

Otis opened his mouth to answer, but before he could say anything, a certain Lab Director chose that exact moment to _finally_ make an appearance. "Hey guys!"

" _Oscar!_ " Olive and Otto exclaimed, momentarily forgetting as they rushed over and grabbed their friend in a group hug.

 _Now_ _you show up,_ Otis thought wryly, _after I don't need your help anymore._

"You've gotten taller," Olive noted as she pulled away, a strange expression on her face that Otis couldn't make out the meaning of.

"And your voice has...dropped?" Otto added, puzzled. "How'd you grow up so fast in the past week?"

Oscar twisted his lips and reached up to scratch his neck. "Oh, hehe, you noticed. Yeah, zapped myself with a Make-Yourself-Olderinator on accident. But I kinda like the new voice, and Ms. O didn't make me switch back, so I guess she liked it too—"

Another strange expression flickered over Olive's face. "Anyways," she interrupted in a slightly strained voice, "we were just thanking this agent for Otto's presents and giving him autographs." Then she snapped her fingers and looked down at the packages she was holding. "Speaking of which, I should get these back to the presents table…."

"Ah, how nice!" Oscar glanced over at Otis, and his brow furrowed. "Hey, you kinda look a little familiar. D-do I know you?"

Otis had forgotten about the mask. "Oscar, it's me, it's—"

"Wait, _what?_ "

All three of them looked at Olive, who held up one of the packages and looked straight at Otis. "Why is one of these addressed to me…?"

* * *

"You do realize it wasn't also Olive's birthday?"

It was the following Monday, and Otis was sitting with Olympia at their desks, recounting everything that had happened two nights before. Her lucky pox marks had almost completely faded, and she was no longer contagious.

"Pssh, of course I knew that, haha!" Olympia claimed, waving a hand dismissively. "But the gifts were for Otto to _share_ with Olive, so I had to make one of them addressed to her, obviously!"

"No, _not_ obviously," Otis countered. "I had literally no explanation to give them."

"But surely the gift itself explained that on its own, right?"

Otis thought back to the bewildered looks on Olive's and Otto's faces as they opened the packages right there. In Otto's was a boxed set of all the _Harry Potter_ movies, and in Olive's was a couple bags of popcorn and candy and two sodas, with a note that read, "For your next date night together! Enough to last the  WHOLE night! :D"

To Olympia he shook his head. "No, no it didn't. I'm no expert at these things, but they almost looked...embarrassed. I ran out of there and got to the tubes as fast as I could, it was so awkward." Otis shuddered at the memory.

His partner wasn't fazed in the slightest. "Yeah, you probably misread that whole situation," she said dismissively. "True soulmates like Olive and Otto have no reason to be embarrassed about a date night package."

More than a little weirded out by what Olympia was getting at ( _And anyhow, that doesn't seem right to me...but Olympia_ _does_ _understand social cues better...never mind, I don't want to think about this_ ), Otis changed the subject. "So, you like the autographs?" he asked, nodding at the photos enshrined on her filing cabinet with magnets.

" _DO_ I?!" Olympia squealed, gazing at the photos with fangirl rapture. "They're just what I wanted!" Without warning she lunged out of her swivel chair and grabbed him in a tight bear hug. "Thank you, Otis! You're the best partner _ever!_ "

Otis said nothing, but a hesitant smile crept across his lips as he returned the hug, patting her on the back. _It was worth it, Olympia,_ he thought, the memories of his terrifying social flounderings from Saturday night flashing through his mind once more. _For you, it was all worth it._

* * *

 _With one final great effort, they grabbed the huge white switch and, in unison, pulled it down._

 _Instantly the lasers shut off, and Otto and Otis collapsed against the wall in exhaustion, breathing heavily. "Think it worked?" Otis panted, turning his face to the other boy._

 _Otto was watching him curiously. "Ragtime piano...dancing...you're not that masked agent from my birthday party, are you?"_

 _Otis looked away, thankful for the dark blue lighting to hide his reddening face. "I was more self-conscious then. Didn't want anyone to know who I was. Thought the mask would help me blend in better."_

" _Blend in better? So that's why you showed off on the dance floor in front of everybody?" Otto laughed. "Sorry, I'm just teasing. It's good to finally know that was you, you hadn't stuck around long enough for me to get your name that night."_

" _Again, self-consciousness thing." Otis shrugged. "I'm better at it now."_

" _Good to hear! Although, uh…" a shadow passed over Otto's face and he squirmed a little, "not to make you self-conscious_ _now_ _, but...well, now that I know who you are and all...okay,_ _what_ _was the deal with your partner's gifts?"_

 _Awkward as it was, Otis managed a chuckling snort. "Oh yeah, that. Olympia told me afterward that it was supposed to be a romantic thing. I guess she thinks you and Olive are—oh, what was the word she used—soulmates?"_

" _Ah." Otto rolled his eyes and sighed. "Ugh, I should've known kids were gonna start thinking that, what with us being Mr. and Ms. O now." He laughed softly. "I'd hate for you to break it to Olympia, but Olive and I are like sister and brother. There's no way we'd...eh, well. Just tell her we enjoyed the movies and the snacks. Especially the snacks," he added with a twinkling wink._

" _Alright, I will." Not remembering the depths of Otto's love for food, the joke was lost on Otis, who decided to take advantage of the pause in conversation to change the subject. "Anyhow, nice job on matching my dancing, earlier. I thought you said you couldn't dance to ragtime!"_

" _I'm better at it now," Otto echoed from before, and they both grinned._

 _Suddenly Otis checked his watch and straightened up. "We should head back now. Olympia and Olive may need our help soon."_

" _Right." Otto followed suit. But when they got to the entrance door, Otto paused. "Hold on, back up. If_ _I_ _just gave you a signed picture of myself a few minutes ago...but_ _you_ _were the masked agent that Olive and I gave autographs to on my birthday..."_

 _Now it was Otis's turn to laugh at the look on Otto's face. "It's cool. I'm sure Olympia won't mind receiving a second copy to put on her filing cabinet. I mean..." he faltered. "If we ever get our jobs back, that is."_

 _Otto pushed open the door and led the way out. "All the more reason to get back to work."_


End file.
